The Enigmatic Bard - December 995
Oswain And The Battle Of Droms - Part I
Ulvilda bent and broke for Oswain
Wishing for sun but receiving rain
Skin grew damp and cries grew loud
Babe small, drowning in woven shroud
Oswain grew frail, mother's love amiss
Father sobbed, leaving Ulvilda with a kiss
But mattered not, as did grow the son
Scrawny legs, arms, mind, with sharp tongue
Barely a babe and barely a man
Father tasked Oswain to mill as a miller can
Yes Oswain dreamed with hate and spite
"See me!" he yells "Sir Oswain, the greatest knight!"
Thick green snaked slithered and writhed
Voyage began, Oswain proclaimed without remorse
"Stand before me, I dare; but regret being alive!"
Then left Father, with blunted sword and weary horse
Contributions to this herald were made by The Vault713 Staff Team
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